


Daughter of the Darkness

by politicalmamaduck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Black Jewels Fusion, Anal Sex, Dominant Rey, F/M, Light Dom/sub, No Pregnancy, Pegging, Praise Kink, Safe to Read if You're Triggered by Pregnancy, Submissive Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24463870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: “My Lady,” he said, his eyes downcast. “I wish to serve.”“And how would you serve, Benjamin Bail Chewbacca Organa Solo?” she asked.“As my Lady pleases,” he replied. “It is an honor for a Warlord Prince to protect and serve.”
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32
Collections: Reylo Pegging Fics, The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology Birthday Gift Fics Collection





	Daughter of the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bittersnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersnake/gifts).



> Written for my dear friend mnemehoshiko/bittersnake for her birthday, as a thank you for introducing me to the Black Jewels series! 
> 
> Note if you have not yet read the Black Jewels series:  
> The darker the Jewel, the more powerful the bearer. A Warlord Prince is the highest ranking male in Blood society. Queens are the highest ranking females, save for Witch, who is more powerful than all.

_She is coming_.

The cryptic warning echoed across space and time. His web thrummed with the vision’s power. 

_She is coming_.

 _Who is coming? Who are you? What do you know?_ Kylo Ren wanted to shout. But he knew it would be futile, useless. The time of the prophecy was at hand. 

Jaenelle Angelline’s heir to Darkness, the next Witch, was coming. That was the only thing it could mean. 

It was not certain that Witch would come again. Many Black Widows searched for a sign in their webs to no avail. 

But where to find her? Where even to look? 

The Emperor would want to know.

The Emperor would want to kill her. 

Kylo Ren--Ben Solo--would not allow that to happen. 

He was a Black Jeweled Warlord Prince. He would serve. 

To serve Witch was his destiny. He was born to serve her. So he would serve the Emperor, learn his mind, his powers, his poisons, until his Witch’s time came. 

* * *

He did not have as long to wait as he thought he would. He would recognize that psychic scent, that feeling, that presence, across any distance of space or time. 

She had arrived and would make her Offering to the Darkness at Ebon Askavi. 

She was glorious and ferocious.

Witch.

His Witch. 

Rey. 

She took no family name, like Cassandra before her. She remained hidden until the time for her to ascend her throne and build her Court had come. 

Her power, her Craft, was magnificent, a beacon to which many lesser Blood were drawn. They did not know her for what she was. 

_Dreams made flesh_.

They did not see her eyes and Jewels flash with the transition from woman to Witch. 

They did not know what she had come to do. 

But Ben--Ben now, again, having shed his false identity and service to the Emperor, nearly sacrificing himself to break his Ring--Ben knew who she was. What she was. 

What they could do together, if she would allow him the honor of service. 

He knelt before his Queen when he was presented to her. 

“My Lady,” he said, his eyes downcast. “I wish to serve.”

“And how would you serve, Benjamin Bail Chewbacca Organa Solo?” she asked. 

“As my Lady pleases,” he replied. “It is an honor for a Warlord Prince to protect and serve.”

He did not dare voice his hopes. She would judge, and if she found him wanting, he would know. She knew his mind; he also would not dare to hide it from her. 

She stepped down from the throne and cupped his chin in her hand, bringing it upward so he was forced to look into her eyes. 

Witch’s eyes. 

They said that Jaenelle Angelline had eyes of sapphire that darkened to midnight when she revealed Witch.

Rey had eyes of hazel that darkened to the depths of the world. Green and brown and gold swirled around him, the colors of life and power and death and decay and rich loam.

She nodded at him, letting him go after a moment. A minute. An eternity. He could not say how long he had knelt, looking into the depths of those eyes, those eyes that contained multitudes and universes and power unseen in thousands of years. 

He returned to his place in the audience, which began to assemble according to caste and rank. The ceremony began. 

* * *

Hours later, when they were finally alone, his mental touch was but a feather on her skin. A whisper, a promise of something more. The control, the Craft was exquisite, an example of control that had been learned over centuries. 

He wanted her for all that she was; he wanted her to yield to his physical touch and other ministrations. He would serve her by providing her the greatest comfort and pleasure he could.

He was her Consort, her mate, and she would use him as she pleased. His body, his mind, his soul, all were hers. 

Rey purred a sigh of contentment. Her hazel eyes darkened with lust, yet they were still Rey’s eyes. Not the thunderous eyes of Witch, of the prodigious power of the Darkness. 

She was a flower blooming in an endless desert, like Jaenelle before her. 

No Ring of Obedience did he wear; Rey was a Queen of Kaeleer, not of Terreille, and did not lay claim to that dark and bloody history. Nor did he require it, for his obedience was paramount. He would serve his Witch. 

He saw her through that first night, the sacred Virgin Night, learning from her and with her as their bodies joined for the first time. 

He did as she commanded, when she asked. 

He could scarcely think when she straddled him, mounted him, told him he was beautiful and he was hers. 

She trusted him not to shatter her despite his past. 

She saw him for what he was, and she claimed him, just as he had seen her for what she was and was unafraid. 

Black Jeweled Witch and Warlord Prince, united as they should be.

* * *

How to defeat the Emperor without shattering the crystal chalice?

Neither Ben nor Rey feared madness. They would do it, together, and face whatever would come as two that were one. 

One could only delve so far into their Jewels. Ben had delved farther than almost any of the Blood who had come before him. 

Rey—Witch— would go even farther. 

Faster and faster they spun through the levels, dancing their deadly dance, not yet reaching the depths of their Black Jeweled power. 

Ben had but the one. Rey wore many Black Jewels. He would never abandon her to the maelstrom. 

He had to trust her to see this through, that she would not abandon him to the Twisted Kingdom. 

And he did. 

As they descended, names out of legend stirred in the Darkness. Ghostly figures appeared in the web they had spun, not all human Blood. A unicorn bowed his head, his horn shining in the dark. 

At the bottom of their web, of the descent into their Jewels, a woman mounted upon a dragon awaited them. 

Not a woman. 

Witch. 

_Dreams made flesh_.

Her hair was spun gold, her eyes midnight sapphires, and her presence everything it was ever described to be. 

“Rise, Rey. Rise, Ben,” she commanded, and they rose, soaring to heights no Blood had ever dared to soar. 

_These are your first steps. Rise, and take them_.

And so they did, their ancestors, the Blood who had gone before, watching and waiting, whispering their encouragements across space and time. 

They rose, and unleashed their power together. 

The Emperor, seated upon his dark throne, cackling his glee at their defeat, could not raise his own Black Jeweled shield in time, so precipitous was their ascent. 

The Emperor’s reign and hold over the Blood was over. 

Rey’s had begun.

* * *

He was born to be her lover. 

He was born for this, he thought, as she spread his legs and oiled his hole. 

He moaned when her first finger penetrated him. Never had he known such pleasure. Never had he dreamed that his Witch would take care of his pleasure the way he dreamed of taking care of hers. 

The pleasure he never thought he would deserve, enduring centuries by the Emperor’s side, waiting for her arrival. 

His Black Jewel flashed with power when she entered him. Her strokes filled him, stretched him to his breaking point. 

“Yes, my Consort,” she crooned. “You belong to me, now and forever, don’t you?”

“I belong to you, my Queen, my Witch, my Consort,” he managed while she thrusted into him. 

“You’re such a good Consort, such a good lover for me,” she said, running her long, black-tinted nails down his back. 

“I was born for you,” he said, his eyes closed, desperate to hang on, to not come without his Lady’s permission.

“You’re so close.”

“Please, my love,” he could not help but beg. “I love you, my Witch,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. 

“I know, she replied as she reached for his cock, stroking gently but firmly, as she thrust into him once more.

“Come for me, my love,” she whispered into his ear. 

Ben came with a roar, her power joining with his, their minds and bodies as one. 

* * *

Ben’s sleep had been untroubled by nightmares since the Emperor’s defeat. 

The woman who was dreams made flesh had made his dreams come true. 

A Queen, a true Consort, he could love and serve with honor, with whom he could spend his nearly immortal lifespan. 

They would never be bored. They would be feared by some, and loved by some, and served by many across the Realms.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta boo Desiree for her help as always.  
> Please leave a comment with your thoughts! You can still find me on Tumblr as well.


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